


Sex Assisted Malfunction

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Dirty Talk, Jokes, Lingerie, M/M, Muscles, Panties, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Stockings, Tactile, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:06:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A commission as a gift for xoshevanel, on Tumblr. Steve comes home after a little while away, and Bucky is wrapped up prettily and waiting for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex Assisted Malfunction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PlaidaleckiandSnackles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlaidaleckiandSnackles/gifts).



Steve isn't sweaty.

He'd had a shower in the SHIELD facility before he'd started making his way home. He walks up the steps, and then inside and up the stairs of the apartment building: Brooklyn. It's nice to live in Brooklyn again, even though it's changed a Hell of a lot in a hundred years.

They've got a little apartment up at the top, with roof access, of course. They've got two _birds_ to think of, after all – Sam and Clint Barton.

“Bucky!” Steve calls as he comes in, a question; he'd been out of the country for three weeks, and with no contact, he's never certain whether Bucky will be home or not. And, soon enough, Steve guesses he'll be deployed on SHIELD missions too, now that Hydra has been thrown out. He just needs to recover first.

“Yeah, Stevie! In here!” Steve rolls his eyes, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the back of the door before kicking off his boots.

“Don't call me Stevie, man. You're a _jerk_.” He calls back the words as he runs a hand through his hair, making his way inside.

“Well, you're a punk!” Steve chuckles at the sharp reply; their back-and-forth is constant these days.

It's weird that they've slipped back into a rhythm so easily. Bucky has some memories but not others – he remembers the fair at Coney Island, but he doesn't remember the rodeo out of town, and he remembers Steve's mom dying, but not the death of his own. It's patchy.

Some of it is filtering back, and some of it hasn't yet – Steve isn't certain all of it will. Bucky's personality is mostly back, but occasionally he'll go silent for a time that's disconcerting, and he'll stare into space instead of at whoever's around him.

He's getting better, bit by bit, and Steve is pretty sure he's not taking advantage.

He steps down the hall, shoulders nearly touching against the walls of the little corridor, and to the bedroom.

In the doorway, he stops short.

Bucky is sprawled out on the bed, and black stockings cling tightly to the thick muscle of his calves and his thighs, lace panties tight around the bulge of his half-hard prick. There's a silken piece of material tied pretty around his neck to pull the outfit together, and Steve's mouth is _dry_ as he watches the other man.

He's laid back, a grin on his face as he leans on his metal arm: his hair is tied back. He'd kept it long after SHIELD had got him away from Hydra. Something to do with liking the weight of it on his neck.

Steve isn't complaining.

“Hey.” Bucky says. He'd mentioned, once, that sex brings back some of the memories, all the tactility and touching, having Steve's mouth against his ear and Steve's hands on his body. And that's just one positive, amongst the numerous pros of Bucky himself.

“Hey.” Steve replies, and he can't help but smirk slightly. “You, uh, you aiming for something there, kiddo?” Bucky _shudders_.

“Depends.”

“Who's our daddy?” Steve says as he steps in, unbuckling his belt and dropping it aside, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off.

“ _You_ are.” Bucky says breathlessly. Their dynamics have changed since the 40s; once upon a time, Bucky had gotten off on treating Steve like some sort of dainty prince. Steve had told him what to do and Bucky had _loved_ it, loved spoiling him and devoting himself to the smaller man even though out of the bedroom they'd been on even ground; two buddies with a height difference.

“That's right.” Now, the dynamic has changed. They can throw each other around if they feel like, but Bucky loves it most when Steve pins him down and makes him _scream._

Metaphorically, obviously. It's not a luxury apartment: the walls are thin.

“You think I look pretty?” Bucky's voice is positively _humming_ with anticipation, and Steve laughs a little, taking a few steps forwards.

“You're positively gorgeous, sunshine. You buy this online?”

“Nope.” Bucky says as Steve leans down, dragging his hands from the other man's thighs up his body to thumb over his nipples, and Bucky looks like some _celestial_ thing is ready to go down on him. Steve raises an eyebrow.

“You saying that you went out to a _store_ , and you bought this little number?” Bucky gives him a little grin that's _soft_ with faux shyness, and Steve leans forwards, _over_ his- best friend? Boyfriend? Fellow supersoldier? All three? “Oh, you _dirty_ little thing.”

“Natasha came with me.” Bucky says with a little _sigh_ of sound, and he arches a little, grinning. “You wanna put it to the test?” And with that, his knees are pressed on either side of Steve's thighs to hold him, and Bucky flips them over so he's on top. The fabric of the stockings is _great_ against Steve's lower legs, and he lets out a little chuckle.

“Depends on the test. Stockings can't take too much roughness.” Bucky dips and kisses Steve hard, and Steve arches up into it, putting his hands roughly in the other man's hair and throwing his hair tie back as he does so. Their bodies are flush together, and they roll over once, Steve thrusting his hips down against Bucky's.

Bucky _laughs_ against his lips, and then says, “It's a good thing _I_ can take the roughness then, _Stevie._ ”

“Oh, you're gonna _pay_ for that.” Steve _bites_ at the flesh of Bucky's neck under the pretty little scarf, delights in the way he grunts and arches up for more. He flips them again, and then he _slaps_ Bucky's right thigh, and the other man _shivers_ in Steve's lap. “You're such a _slut_ , Bucky.”

“You know I love it.” Bucky says, and he rubs himself against Steve's crotch, cock _bobbing_ in its lacy prison. Steve wants to feel that on his bare _skin_ , and so he throws Bucky aside and lets him bounce on the bed, quickly shaking off his trousers and the underwear beneath. “Christ, I love that cock. Fuckin' _ballooned_ when you got the serum.”

Steve laughs at him, dips and catches Bucky's mouth in another kiss, thumbing over and _pinching_ at one of Bucky's nipples to make him flinch and arch and _whimper_ against Steve's mouth as he does so. “How's it make you feel, Buck?”

“Like I'm getting hollowed out whenever you fuck me. Like you're gonna come so much I'll explode. Like my throat burns and my ass is all filled up, and I keep coming back for more.”

“Cockwhore.”

“ _Yeah_.” Bucky says, his hands splaying across Steve's chest as he rolls his hips down in a fluid movement. Like a dancer: it reminds Steve of Natasha, and despite himself he smirks a little. “Get your clothes off, man.”

“Yes, _sir_.” Steve teases, and Bucky laughs as he drops to the side. He watches as Steve stands up and shucks off the rest of his clothes, gaze flickering over Steve's body and down to the divot of his hips, his inner thighs, his cock. “Eager or something?”

“I've been _waiting_ , Stevie.” Bucky says, and he crawls up to the head of the bed, leaning back into the pillows there as he cups his crotch and thumbs over his own nipples, letting out _gasping_ little sounds. “How do I look?”

“Pretty enough to put on our Christmas cards.” Bucky's lips part at the thought: he knows Steve would never do it, but the idea obviously _sings_ through his skin. His cock twitches under the press of the lace. “You like that? You wanna be all spread out on a red rug by the tree, pretty picture? We'd send 'em out to Sam, Nat, Nick, the other Avengers, Maria Hill...”

As he speaks he makes his way forward, and Bucky _shudders_ , letting out a pleased little sigh as Steve drops and drags his mouth over Bucky's left inner thigh, mouth hot against the fabric of the stocking. “You gonna make a lotta noise?”

“Maybe I will when you man up and put that mouth on my cock, soldier.” Steve _laughs_ , puts his hands around the other's knee and _sucks_ at the base of his prick through the fabric of his lingerie, looking up at Bucky attentively as his eyes close and he lets out a _groan._

“As promised.” Steve purrs with satisfaction, and he hooks his thumbs in the other's waistline before dragging the panties down and over Bucky's thighs, throwing it aside. When he glances back, he is _delighted_. “Oh, Buck, you _didn't_.”

“I did. Didn't know how long you were gonna be.” Bucky says, and Steve chuckles, tapping the plug before pulling it out. It's a slim little thing – intended to keep Bucky all nice and wet and prepped rather than full-up.

“You know how long I am.” Steve cracks, and he watches Bucky begin to laugh again as he leans forwards, lining himself up and fucking _forwards_. Bareback, of course: experience had shown condoms weren't really suited to the Herculean speed and strength of a super soldier's orgasm.

Bucky _convulses_ , arches his back and _groans_ as he reaches to grab at Steve's shoulders and pull him down so they're flush against each other once more. Bucky's legs are wrapped all tight around Steve's thighs, pulling him in as close as he can manage.

One hand is hot against Steve's shoulder; the other is cool and made of unforgiving metal.

Steve begins to thrust, rolling his hips forwards in fluid, fluent motions, and Bucky is left gasping, gasping and digging two sets of fingers that don't match into the flesh of Steve's shoulders. It feels good, _so_ good, but what's better is seeing Bucky's face as his features scrunch and tighten, as he lets out _moans_ through pressed-together lips.

“Stevie, Steve, Steve, come on-”

“Come on?” Steve repeats, and Bucky lets out a whine as Steve wraps a hand around his cock and begins to roughly squeeze and pull and twist: it's a high tolerance for pain, being a super soldier, but it's a high tolerance for pleasure as well. Bucky _needs_ the roughness, and Steve loves seeing him _shake_ for it.

Steve keeps on going, not chasing his own orgasm but chasing Bucky's, feels the stockings against his legs and _hears_ the fabric rip at the tense of Bucky's muscle: they're not made for thighs as built as James Buchanan Barnes'.

Bucky is arching, his eyes closing; he really _has_ been waiting for this all day. It's good though, so good to feel the other man's skin against his own after time apart, so good to see him eager and enjoying the tactility.

“I'm gonna- _Steve_ -”

“I know, I know. Let it out. Come on, paint your belly for me.” Bucky cries out, and then he comes, cock pulsing against Steve's stomach as white slicks both of their chests. Suddenly Bucky's metal arm is _pinching_ and squeezing at Steve's shoulder, and Steve winces, grasping at it and pulling it away from his skin as he pulls out.

It twitches and shakes for a few moments; the circuitry still isn't quite accustomed to the rush of endorphins from orgasm, and Bucky lets out an irritated sound, grasping at his silver wrist to keep it steady and make sure he doesn't punch himself in the face like he had a few months ago.

Bucky had found it hilarious once his nose had stopped bleeding, but Steve had been too concerned to laugh along with him.

It takes a minute or two, but then the twitching stops, and Bucky flops on the bed. “I need to get someone to fix that.”

“Why don't you ask Stark? Seems like his area of expertise.” Bucky grins, leaning back on the mattress and grinning up at Steve.

“You want a handjob?”

“With the hand that's safe, or...?” Bucky grins despite himself. It hadn't taken time: Bucky is completely alright with his new arm. He doesn't hate it, isn't _scared_ of it. He has more strength of mind than that, so it seems.

“Depends how lucky you feel.”

“Oh, I'm feeling _pretty_ lucky but- not _that_ lucky. Let's go flesh?”

“Yeah, you _love_ flesh.” Bucky says, and Steve lies back on the bed beside him as Bucky grabs for his cock and brings his flagged erection back to life.

“That's a bad joke, Bu- _uh_ -” Steve's eyes close as Bucky twists his hand.

“What's that? Buh-uh?”

“ _Shut_ _up_.” Steve grins against Bucky's hair as the other leans against him: it feels good to have the other man so close again. They'd been so long apart, after all, and now the absence stings even when it's shorter. But Bucky's touch, lost for less than a month?

He's missed it more than he'd admit. 


End file.
